


Promise

by kandayuu



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: F/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:07:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29363745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kandayuu/pseuds/kandayuu
Summary: In which Lenalee worries, and Lavi tries to help.Written for Lavilena week back in 2015.
Relationships: Lavi/Lenalee Lee
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	Promise

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this like 6 years ago and only now had the spoons to post it here lmao

The walk back to the inn was quiet.

They’d just finished getting rid of a rather nasty akuma infestation in a town off the coast of the Mediterranean, but things hadn’t gone as well as they could have. All the finders were dead, as was a solid chunk of the local population, and they’d only just avoided serious injuries themselves. The bad news they’d received afterwards from headquarters was the cherry on top of an already terrible afternoon.

Most of the silence was death, a muted sadness that Lenalee wasn’t helping dispel by being so persistently quiet. Lavi had given up trying to chat her up after the first five minutes and started whistling. Lenalee barely noticed it though, because she was too caught up in the sharp swarm of her own thoughts, choosing to brood while shooting glances at her partner, then, later simply by staring at the ground. She didn’t even register that he’d been trying to get her attention until he’d stopped in front of her and snapped a finger in her face.

“Lenalee.” She jumped.

“Yes?”

“Your hands.” 

Her hands? Oh. Oh, right. Her problem. That bad habit that had persisted after every mission, no matter how many gloves she wore and how short she cut her nails.

“Oh, it’s nothing, I promise.”

His eyebrows furrowed, and Lenalee felt guilty. Now she’d made him worry because she’d been worrying, and there wasn’t a force on this earth that could stop her from worrying. She met his eye and returned his genuine concern with a false smile.

“Really, they’re barely scratches! I don’t even notice when I’m doing it.”

“But you’re bleeding.”

Really? Was she? She looked down, and only then did she realize the blood blooming from crescent shaped cuts on her palms was her own, and not anything leftover from the fight. She bit her lip.

“I’m alright, Lavi,” Lenalee said, and she was almost impressed with how certain and reassuring she sounded, until Lavi leaned forward and pinched her nose. She squeaked.

“You shouldn’t lie, Lenalee,” he said, almost jokingly, but the mirth didn’t reach his eye, “It’s not cute.”

Lenalee punched his arm.

“Maybe I’m not trying to be cute.” He accepted the punishment with a theatrical “Oof!” and they continued on.

The silence returned, if a little less heavily. Now that she wasn’t swallowed up by her worry, though, it felt entirely more awkward, so much so that she almost wished he’d start whistling again. Then Lavi brought it up again, so casually and almost at the heart of it, that Lenalee, through her jolt of shock, almost felt foolish for having tried to lie to him at all.

“It’s about them isn’t it,” Lavi said, without looking at her, “Ever since you heard they’d lost communication with Allen’s group you’ve been on edge.”

“That’s-!”

Lenalee swallowed her denial. He wasn’t completely wrong; she had been worried over the news that her brother likely hadn’t meant to bring up while he’d been telling them to come home, right after they’d thought they’d completed their mission. A sudden loss in communication with Allen’s group in Paris? Of course she’d been worried. Allen was always getting into the sort of trouble that left scars. That wasn’t what had been making her so upset on the way back, though.

Lenalee had been able to push her brother’s slip-up out of her mind, to focus on getting home and make sure her family was alright. But then Lavi had nearly gotten himself gutted by a Level 2 that they’d overlooked. She’d watched his eye widen as the blade of an arm nearly sliced open his stomach, before anger and desperation had her flying over to him and sinking her boot into it’s head in a matter of seconds. She hadn’t even noticed how tightly she’d been clenching her fists until he’d mentioned her hands on the way back.

She heard Lavi sigh beside her, and she turned to look at him, feeling relief beyond words that he was still here and not bleeding out in the town square, and endless worry over what might have happened had she not been quick enough.

“Lena, I get it, I do, you’d be devastated if something happened to any of us, I know, I just- fuck-”

Lavi ran a hand through his hair while letting out a noise that sounded somewhere between frustration and restraint. Lenalee looked at him curiously. There was something about him, something in the way that he was turned completely to face her but was still avoiding her gaze, in the absurd nervousness in the twitch of his hands, that was making her feel unusual, light, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. 

He was worried, yes, his glances at her hands were telling enough, but his worry by itself did not usually cause her heartbeat to quicken minutely, did not inspire the sudden bout of strange self-consciousness that she felt suddenly in her throat. She swallowed; opened her mouth. Then he offered her his hand.

“Here,” Lavi said, almost managing to smile for her. Lenalee must have looked more confused than she’d meant to, because he laughed, putting his other hand through his hair again before explaining.

“Look, I know I can’t convince you that they’re going to be alright, even though they definitely are, but,” He met her gaze for a second before taking a rather sudden interest in watching the seashore, “I figure holding my hand might just stop you from hurting yours, and that’s something, right?”

Lenalee blinked once, twice. She glanced down at his waiting palm, then up at the reddening tips of his ears. And she accepted.

Lavi’s hand was warm when she took it. Her cuts were sore, and they itched, but Lavi was gentle, cradling her hand like it was something delicate, and it helped curb the desire to dig her fingers into them again, just a little, which was a start.

“Lavi.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you’re alright,” Lenalee said with a smile, walking closer to him and threading their fingers together.

“Lena, of course I’m alright. When do I ever get into any life-threatening trouble?”

“Hmm, other than at least once everyday?”

“What? How could you say that, right after we had that important talk about lying-”

“Your favorite hobby is to annoy as many people as you can before lunch, so I don’t think I’m the one not being cute.”

“You wound me.”

“You’ll get over it.”

There was a comfortable silence, during which Lenalee did not think about her friends being dead, and Lavi tugged her along gently by the hand. Then, about a half a block away from the inn, Lavi turned around to face her, and said,

“Lena, can you promise me something?”

“What?”

“Promise me that you’ll stop hurting yourself when you’re upset. Please.” She blinked at him, caught between feeling touched and dismayed at her own impulses. Tucking her hair behind her ear, she replied,

“I...don’t know if I can make that promise.” He stared at her a moment, then turned away.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, that just means that I’ll have to hold your hands all the time.” Lenalee stopped walking, mouth open and eyes wide. Lavi hardly acknowledged her sudden immobility, pausing long enough only to tug her along

“I- what??” she spluttered, heat rising in her cheeks, “Lavi, you- you can’t-”

“I was kidding,” Lavi said, flashing her a mischievous grin, “But, honestly, if it helps you, I’ll hold your hands whenever you need me to.”

Lenalee almost pouted, but then she looked at her hands, stress and worry giving her scars, and the light, warm feeling being around him gave her, and she smiled, serene and tearful, and nodded.

“Thank you.”


End file.
